


A Small Cafe in Japan

by DyslexicTrashWriter



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Cliche af, Dino is clumsy af in nintey nine percent of this fic, F/M, Fluff, Gender Neutral, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Im not even sorry you know he's like this, Like a really bad date, M/M, MeetCute, Mututal Flirting, Precious horse bby, Sarcasm, Warning for adorable flirtacious dino, WheelChairUserReaderxDino, You're on a particuallry bad date
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-05-12 22:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14737376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyslexicTrashWriter/pseuds/DyslexicTrashWriter
Summary: Getting back in the dating game didn't quite go as you expected.





	1. The Little Cafe

 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in alone in a place like this?”

You turn around in your seat to meet the coffee coloured gaze of a tall blond-haired man. His smile is disarming. Despite the cheesy pick up line – shamelessly deployed in the middle of a busy coffee shop at 2pm on a Tuesday no less - his body has an air of dishevelled sincerity. He is annoyingly handsome; wearing a long black t-shirt that hangs a little too loose but somehow still manages to show off the lithe muscles in his arms, framed wonderfully by the snaking tattoo that slinks around his forearm all the way to his wrist.

You must be taking too long to respond because he tries again. “Do you speak Japanese?” he asks.

“Yes! Yes, I speak Japanese!” you reply a little too hastily, remembering it’s rude to stare.

“Great, I’m Dino,” he says, offering his hand.

“Name, and, uh, I’m actually waiting for a date,” you respond, taking his hand and shaking it in kind almost apologetically as you laugh to try and dispel the awkwardness.

“Ah, figures,” he laughs, “Pretty ones are always taken.” He winks and politely returns to his table a little way from yours.

 

You let out a long sigh, blowing the steam from your coffee cup and checking your phone. Your date is running late, but then being a wheelchair user always comes with its own _unique_ set of travelling challenges. Busses were great, unless some parents had thoughtlessly taken up the one wheelchair space with their pram in which case it could be ten, twenty, thirty minutes before another bus comes along. Footpaths were fine as long as they were maintained, god forbid there’s gravel or cobbles, fucking cobbles.

It is incredibly feasible that the guy you met on a wheelchair dating site will be late for multiple reasons beyond his control. As if reminding yourself, you let you fingers brush against the collapsed metal of you own chair, tucked safely under the table. It has been a while since you dated and nerves are high. You stroke the worn padding of your arm rest for relief, a comforting action you bonded with a long time ago.

Another aching twenty minutes pass before you accept you’ve been stood up. As you’re about to begin the arduous process of unfolding and manoeuvring yourself back into your wheelchair, a dark-haired man approaches you.

“Name?” he asks uncertainly.

You look up and vaguely recognise him from his dating profile. He’s older than his pictures, the thinning hair line and creased edges of his eyes being a dead giveaway. You brush it aside and opt to introduce yourself; everyone lies a little on their profiles.

As the conversation staggers painfully on you being to realise that some people lie more than others, and being a wheelchair user wasn’t a replacement for a personality.

Everything is about his wheelchair, his accident, the loss of his thriving sports career – you try to provide some comfort, pointing out there are several wheelchair adapted sports clubs around here. Fuck, you could even introduce him to your basketball team, but you get as far as, “Oh actually,” before he’s interrupting you again - the horrors of being _bound_ to his chair. It’s almost comical that he seems to think he’s the first person to go through this stage, like he’s not sitting across from someone who’s going through the exact same thing.

Rolling your eyes at yet another comment about things people _can’t_ do in wheelchairs, you catch the gaze of the blond from before. He laughs and mouths something, asking if you’re having a good time.

Your eyes check in with your date, who’s still rambling about how he could have gone pro, and slowly you shake your head pulling your face into a doubtful frown.

Like clockwork the man who introduced himself as Dino slides to your table. “Name, how are you! I haven’t seen you in agesss.” He goes in for a blinding bear hug that catches you momentarily off guard. _God, he’s strong_.

“Dino, it’s been so long!” you respond. _A whole half an hour right!_

“How are things? Did your friend ever get that thing going? Ah, please let me buy you a coffee before you tell me all about it,” he says, reaching for your arm to pull you to the till.

_Bad move, bad move!_

Swiping your arm back, you rush to think of a counter point to his offer. “Actually, why don’t you sit with us? I’m sure you want a break from all my talking, right?” you turn to ask your date; completely blanking on his name. “You haven’t even had a chance to get a coffee.”

Your date looks less than impressed by the sudden intrusion of someone with an ounce of personality and sulks off to the counter to order a hot drink. In the meantime, Dino takes a seat opposite and eyes you up.

“We could head out the back door before he gets back if you’re too nervous to turn him down,” he whispers sneakily.  You sigh, about to tell him why that’s probably not as smooth of an option as he thinks before you’re interrupted.

“I, uh, actually forgot my wallet,” your date says, having sheepishly returned to the table, “I’ll have to go home and get it.” he turns to you, a strange look on his face. “Would you like to come back with me, Name?” his smile turns cocky in his request.

You can’t believe the cheek of this guy. As politely as possible you turn him down, mentioning how you’d prefer to stay with your friend. He looks scorned as he wheels away, mentioning something about dating being nothing but a waste of time.

“Wow, he’s a charmer,” Dino remarks, seemingly just as surprised as you were.

“Honestly that’s the most interesting thing he’s said all day and it’s still disappointing,” you joke as you drain your coffee cup.

“Hey, what’s say I buy you another one of those to make up for Mr-wheelchair-life-is-a-death-sentence?” he proposes, leaning his chin on folded hands, seemingly not caring he’s just admitted to listening in on your entire conversation.

You toy with the idea for a moment, finger absentmindedly running round the rim of your cup. He is incredibly cute and he did just save you from a horrible date. You agree, but insist on paying since he was the one who helped you. He insists on paying and sprints up to the counter before you can say otherwise, a giddy smile on his face when he looks back to check you haven’t followed him. When he returns, he leans in a little too close and you catch the faintest smell of coffee and cologne on his skin.

Conversation is incredibly easy. The charming blonde asking you question after question, seemingly drinking in your every response. It’s cute but you’re careful not to tell him too much. He seems happy to keep the conversation light. You’re both Netflix addicts – although admittedly you don’t pay for yours, a statement which horrifies him as you tell him you borrow from a friend. He’s seen most of your favourites and you’re more than happy to suggest the ones he hasn’t.

He doesn’t mention what his job is exactly just a quick mumble of _business stuff_ before he goes back to his favourite topic: you. Dino appears to love talking about normal things. Where you liked to go on a Friday night, the local parks, how unreliable the bus service in town was. You’d think these kind of topics were new to him with the way he listened intently.

You almost don’t notice when your phone goes off, buzzing abruptly in your pocket.

“Something important?” Dino asks.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “My rides here,” you say without thinking.

“Ride?” Dino asks, eyes assessing you, like maybe you’re someone important he hasn’t recognised; a movie star, a famous athlete, royalty of some foreign country.

“Yeah, it’s, uh . . .never mind. Thank you for the coffee,” you say, nodding to let him leave.

But he doesn’t, politely waiting for you to get up instead. You hold off gesturing again, but he doesn’t move, smile unbudging on his face. To try and prompt him you shimmy in your seat like you’re going to get up and he does the same only to stop when you stop. 

It becomes a weird game, his hand mirroring yours as you make to push yourself up using the table. Pulling back when yours does. Playfully, you mime picking your nose and he does the same. Laughing at the childish joke.

“Okay, okay.” He smiles, finally getting out of his seat. He turns around to say something else and manages to trip over his own feet. Falling into your chair, falling into you like a sawed-off log slamming into the ground. It’s sore, really sore. Dino’s entire body lands on top of you and you can’t help a yell of pain.

“I’m so sorry, Name!” he stumbles out from on top of you, scrambling to his feet, taking your hand to pull you up. Your body follows before it sinks back like a dead weight.

He blinks a few times, brain needing a moment to process the information relayed from his eyes. “Oh fuck,” his voice rises in panic, “Did I break your legs?! I’ll call an ambulance!” He’s in full panic mode now, blindly punching numbers into his phone.

“Dino,” you say but he’s too busy freaking out. He’s touching your legs, asking where it hurts, relaying information to some guy called Romario.

“It happened. Oh fuck, I broke someone’s legs. NO, not on purpose! I fell! Get the family doctor--“

“DINO!” you shout sharply, breaking through his frenzied state. “I’m fine.” you put on a smile to try and reassure the distressed boy.

You swallow thickly. It’s not that you’re ashamed of your wheelchair, you and it had made peace a long time ago. But men . . . well, certain men . . . a lot of men treat it like some kind of life threatening illness they’re bound to catch if they stayed a moment longer. The only thing worse were the ones who treated you like an infant, Assuming you wanted them to crouch down, eyes full of sympathy, suddenly forgetting you’d held an entire intelligent conversation with them as pity rings harsh through their voice.

And Dino has been so much fun, so wonderful, you don’t want to see that from him.

But you will have to, as reasonable as it sounds right now you can’t lie on the floor forever. Taking a deep breath, you roll over and tug your chair out from under the table. It isn’t the most elegant of actions but you’ve manoeuvred yourself off the floor enough times to be able to do it without injuring yourself further.

Sheepishly, you look up to show him you are fine.

“Oh. OHH!” he says, letting the phone dangle by his ear, a rosy blush spreading over his cheeks as he realises his mistake.

You look at him, then at the loud voice coming from the other end of the phone, frantic in its demand for further orders.

Dino is still looking at you in disbelief, mouth wide open. “Your phone?” you remind him gently.

He snaps back into focus and apologises to the man he called. “It’s okay they're in a wheelchair.”

This prompts an enormous roar from the other end of the phone, “YOU PUT THEM IN A WHEELCHAIR BOSS?!”

Helpfully, you reach over and take the phone from the overwhelmed blond. “Hi? Hi, this is the person he knocked over. No it’s fine, the wheelchair is mine, I need it.  Dino didn’t know and he fell into me. Haha, yes! No, it’s fine, don’t worry. Okay, okay, Thank you.” You hear the familiar click of the closed line and feel proud to have calmed the situation. You return the phone to Dino, giving him a small smile.

He’s staring at you and it’s a moment before he says anything. “You keep so calm.” He laughs, a relieved look on his face. You let out your own laugh at his observation.

“You panic a lot,” you retort, giving him a gentle nudge to his leg.

 “Your ride! Can I walk you to the street? I mean not walk, obviously, I--“ he stresses again and it’s an adorable look on him.

You laugh and give him your best smile. “I’d like that,” you say, unlocking the breaks and rolling with him to the exit.


	2. Coincidence

It’s his third time coming to the cosy little café. Dino tells himself it’s because it’s close to his new office, the coffees fairly priced, and he can people watch out the large floor to ceiling window that allows in so much light - even in clouded early evening sun.  But then, Dino’s reasons to himself as he half-heartedly stirs his coffee, if he was so fond of this café why did he feel so down every time he visited? Eyes scanning the seats every few minutes, checking, waiting for something.

As if answering his questions, you roll in. Hair blowing gently from the cool wind outside as you manoeuvre the door with one hand and wheel yourself in with the other, face a concentrated gaze as you glide over to the counter and try to catch someone’s attention.

Dino can feel it, a massive smile spreading over his face as he watches you. All grace and elegance as you order your coffee. He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you set yourself up at a nearby table. You’re pulling out books and a notepad, sliding onto a seat and expertly folding up your wheelchair before settling in. It doesn’t take you long to start, head down as you scribble and highlight and underline letters in thick paged books.

You only look up when a waiter brings over your coffee, a polite smile and thank you before you return. He can see you bite your lip momentarily as your pen pauses, hovering over a blank space, train of thought no doubt interrupted from its riverlike flow.

If he was quick, this would be his chance. Dino goes over everything Reborn tortured into him during his training. Smooth, sophisticated, charming, he could do this. Jumping from his seat he manages to knock his lukewarm coffee cup over himself and watches as it clunks and shatters on the floor.

Your head whips round and for a moment you don’t recognise him, looking only at the shattered porcelain then to the strange man with coffee stains on his new suit.

“Dino?” you ask, wires in your brain finally connecting.

“Name!” he chuckles, being extra careful to step over the broken cup as he walks forward to greet you. “Are you always this clumsy?” you remark peering round to stare at the mess then to him. Dino ignores the strange sensation of coffee soaked shirt clinging to his chest as he walks towards you.

He rubs the back of his neck nervously, trying to think of a smooth reply. “Only around the cute ones.” _Nailed it._ Whether it’s as smooth as it sounded in his head is irrelevant as he hears your laugh echo past his ears like music. Hand covering your mouth as you calm yourself, a gleeful snort silenced all too quickly.

It’s all too easy to slide into the seat next to you and ask about your books. Turns out you’re a part time student, and basketball tutor. Dino is about to slyly ask if you could tutor him when he abruptly remembers all of Reborns home _tutoring_ he endured through his childhood. Less sexy one on one coaching, more long-term injuries and a lifetime fear of fedoras.

He’s about to ask you something else when you interrupt him. “Ah, my turn for the questions. What’s with the get up?” you smirk, gesturing to his now stained suit. Seeing his chance, he tries again for another smooth line. “I dress to impress.” He smirks leaning closer in an attempt to further his seduction. Only he misplaces his elbow, sending his arm down and his face flying straight into the table.

It’s painful, really painful, but you’re laughing. Hands glide over Dino’s chin, lifting his head up. “Are you okay? Holy crap that’s the lamest thing I’ve ever seen,” your laugh cascades into his heart, warming it to the very edges. You wipe a forming tear from your eye as your laugh calms to a soft chuckle.

“How’re you still alive?” you ask, reaching for a napkin to dab and what Dino doesn’t doubt is a small scar appearing on his forehead.

“The tables slippy.” Dino reasons to you, laughing it off as you finish wiping his wound.

“Of course, it is.” You tease, running your hand along the table in a fashion Dino thinks is all too unfairly seductive.

“Are you meeting another date today?” he asks coyly, replacing his elbows on the table and sinking them in to avoid a repeat situation. To his delight you shake your head.

“After last time it seems a little pointless.” You say stirring the spoon in your coffee cup. _Oh now that just wouldn’t do._

“Why don’t you go on a date with me?” Dino says, making sure his arms are stable on the table, making sure he’s not leaning so far forward he could fall, making sure he’s maintain eye contact with that beautiful face of yours. He’s trying to ignore the cold wet feeling of his coffee stained shirt against his chest as he plays it cool.

“A date? With you?” you reply, looking a little flustered.

Dino nods, enjoying the gentle pink hue appearing in your cheeks. Sadly, he’s interrupted by his phone. It’s Romario. “Excuse me for a moment,” he says getting up from the table.

“Romario?”

“Where are you, boss? We’ve been looking all over for you the meeting starts in 5 minutes! You and you were going out for coffee and that was 2 hours ago”” Romario berates him down the phone.

Dino cringes slightly, he _may_ have lost track of time while talking to you. “It’s okay I’ll be there soon,” he reassures his right-hand man. There’s a pause on the other end of the phone as the hiss of the coffee machine blast over the phone “You’re at the café again, aren’t you?” Romario asks. Dino knows he’s pushing his luck, Romario care about him deeply and he doesn’t want to let him down but the slight irritation in his voice made it worse.

“Yesssss.” He replies honestly. “but I promise I’ll be back in time for the meeting, I just have to do _one_ thing before I go.”

“Boss you’re half an hour away you don’t have t—” Dino snaps the shut before he can hear another word and walks back over to your table.

“So, date?” he grins.

You hesitate, seemingly undecided if it’s a good idea or not. Then lapsing into a teasing smile.

“Does that date come with or without the coffee satins?” you say gesturing to his now soaked through white shirt.  Dino looks down and realises how bad the coffee stain has gotten. He can’t show up to a meeting like this.

“Without?” he ventures, giving his best cheesy grin.

“Sounds like a deal,” you gesture for his phone and, like an obedient puppy, Dino hands it over.

“I’d ask for more details but it sounds like you’re already running late for something.” you wink as you type in your phone number.

Dino leaves with a massive smile on his face, practically skipping into the limousine Romario had so helpfully ordered for him.


	3. First Dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dino is oh so smooth

You weren’t nervous. And maybe if you kept repeating that to yourself, you’d believe it. You scrolled back through that admittedly brief text conversation where in the charming clumsy blond had invited you to a grand looking cinema a little out of town. The only problem was it looked closed. The double glass doors dim, no sign of movement or life behind them.

You sigh and idly roll yourself back and forth, waiting for something to happen. Maybe this was just the meeting spot.

As if answering your thought Dino appears behind the dark glass doors. “Name!” he says as he opens the door, grin big on his face.

“Dino?” you reply, a little worried that he’s kicking around what looks like an abandoned cinema.

Dino gestures for you to join him as he holds the door open, letting you go first like a gentleman. The cinema is big, really big, and to your surprise very old fashioned. Cream walls with gold lined panels too extravagant to merely showcase the lights they held, Red plush carpet that made pushing your wheels a little harder than expected, a snack booth that looks like something straight out of an overbudgeted 1950s Hollywood movie.

“It’s kind of quiet for a Saturday night?” you say as you observe the nearly empty foyer.

“I booked it out, wanted to be sure we’d get a seat.” Dino replies in a tone so casual you momentarily think he was telling the truth.

“Good one.” You laugh as you playfully knock his elbow.

Dino gives you a look you don’t quite understand, tilting his head as he looks down at you but you brush it off.

“What we watching?” you ask, looking for some kind of showing list on the immaculate walls.

“What’s your favourite movie?” he asks crouching down to meet you eye level.

You pause, trying to read that naïve smiling expression of his. It’s unlikely this incredibly fancy place actually has your favourite movie, plus it felt a little soon to be discussing deep things like favourite movies. What even was your favourite movie anyway?

You realise you’re taking too long because as soon you as focus back you can see he looks worried. To compensate you blurt out the first movie you can think of.

“Perfect!” he says, turning and signalling something to the cashier at the stand who looks remarkably like the man that picked him up in a limo the last time you met. But then maybe you were just on edge, it’d been a while since you’d been on a date, just nerves you told yourself.

The screen isn’t far, and thankfully ground level. As you wheel in you can see Dino already heading down towards the disabled space at the front.

“Need a hand?” he asks. For a brief moment you imagine those strong arm around you, picking you up from you chair bridal style, all muscles and warmth against your skin. But you quickly shake yourself out of that day dream as you decline. You’d see how clumsy Dino could be, no doubt it would end with both of you concussed on the floor.

It’s a tight manoeuvre but you manage to wheel yourself into the empty space and Dino takes a seat next to you. The theatre is unbearably quiet until the sudden _boom_ of the speaker system nearly has you jumping out your skin.

“You okay Name?” Dino asks looking a little concerned.

You nod, not wanting to admit you’d been so easily spooked.

As the movie begins you find yourself relaxing more. It’s a comedy you’re more than familiar with and to you surprise Dino has never seen. It gets interesting, watching him crack up, the small creep of a bigger smile on his face as he _finally_ gets the punchline, usually a few seconds late but still as entertained.

There’s something wonderful about his smile. It’s big and lopsided and often completely unexpected. You find yourself paying more attention to it than the movie as you let you a small contented hum.

“Hmm?” Dino questions, eye moving from the screen to yours and _oh god_ he’s caught you staring. Quickly you turn your head away.

“Did you say something?” he follows up.

“No. Just watch the movie.” you mumble, pinning your eyes to the screen. The movies about mid-way through and if you just _don’t_ look at him again you’ll be fine.

That would work, if it wasn’t for the fact you’re pretty sure he’s still looking at you. It’s hard to tell out the corner of your eyes but you can _just_ see the white of that stupidly charming grin on his face. You take a deep breath and try to ignore it, if the idiot wanted to miss the entire movie by looking at you that was a waste of his money. Come to think of it had he even bought tickets when you went in? Had anyone even been standing at the dropbox to collect them before you went into the screen?

The more you thought about the more you wondered if Dino really _had_ bought out the entire cinema. No, that’s silly you tell yourself. What kind of guy has that kind of money and uses it to rent out an entire cinema for a first date. You risk a glance back at the blond, who is in fact still looking at you.

That kind of guy, you remind yourself.

You turn your attention back to the movie, not wanting to maintain eye contact when the best bit was coming up. Gradually you become aware of something warm resting next to your hand on the arm of your chair, slowly you look down to see Dino’s hand, ever so cautiously perched on the edge of his arm rest, pinky just a few centimetres from you.

 _Oh, he thought he was so smooth_.

Casually, you move your hand just a little closer to your body, further from his hand. You watch in amusement as a few moments later it tentatively slides closer. A gentle pinky lands on top of yours, so delicately you have to drop your eyes to make sure it’s actually there.

Even his little finger is warm as it carefully strokes yours in an almost hesitant manner. You check out the corner of your eye and notice Dino’s eyes are still glued dutifully to the screen. The motion of his finger caressing yours makes it hard to concentrate. Determined not to be out done, you place a few of your fingers over his hand, softly dragging your fingertips around his knuckles and the start of his tattoo.

Just at the edge of your field of vision you can see him bite his lip. Precious angel, you wonder how much it’ll take to draw his attention away from the screen. Experimentally you turn you hand over and slide it under his. You go all out, palm to palm, fingers intertwining.

To your dismay he doesn’t break eye contact with the screen, but gives your hand a gentle squeeze as his fingers stroke against yours leisurely. Annoyingly, such a simple gestures makes your heat flip. His hands are bigger than yours, and as you focus on the sensation of your hand against his you can feel two rough callouses in the palm of his hand. Curious you draw your fingers back to trace over them.

It’s an action that makes him jump slightly. Maybe he’s not as smooth as he’s trying to make you think you chuckle to yourself as you turn his hand over and bring your other hand into play to trace over them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hasn't been grammar checked and im sorry but i wanted to upload a non clumsy Dino for once


	4. The Third Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dino manages to keep it together for a solid 10 minutes

“I’ll raincheck this, I promise.” You say before hanging up. You’d bailed on the date, something coming up last minute. Dino lets out a sigh, he had been really excited about tonight. He’d found the best bar, one with a wheelchair accessible entrance and a pool table you could both play from. He’d been practicing too.

Dino sighs, it’d be a shame to waste a night off and he doesn’t want to go back to his office just yet, so he takes a walk. By chance he finds himself walking past the community centre, it’s closed, as to be expected a 9pm on a Saturday. But as Dino walks closer he can hear voices, cheering.

Curious, he walks around the building, only to run into a crowd of people lined round a tarmac court. Some in wheelchairs, some standing. Dino has to crane a little to see over the crowd, whatever they were shouting about, it was intense.

To his surprise, he sees you, or rather catches a glimpse of you as you skid past. Wheels burning the tarmac as you reach up to catch a thrown basketball.

It’s amazing to watch, you’re like a hurricane. Dino’s eyes can barely keep up as you slide up and down the court, shouting at your team mates as you block a set of oncoming opponents. Your movements are slick, using momentum to pull off some ridiculously harsh twists and turns. At one point you one-wheel your way past two advancing opponents and he nearly has a heart attack.

The match is intense. Dino doesn’t really know how or who’s keeping score, but there seems to be a general consensus that the team with your colours is winning. The game ends when another player throws his shirt on the ground and wheels off, storm brewing behind his eyes.

Your team cheers, and so do half of the crowd. They move quickly, practically swarming you and your team. Through it all he manages to catch your eye.

“Dino!?” you say, beyond surprised by his appearance.

“Hi!” he shouts, beaming as he tries to manoeuvre through the crowd. He doesn’t get far before he trips over someone’s wheels and lands face first on the tarmac.

“Jesus, can’t take you anywhere.” You joke, wheeling over and pulling him up by his shirt collar.

There’s cries and shouts still coming from the crowd and someone mentions the word _drinks_. Before Dino can ask, he’s being herded with the rest of the group down the road and into a bar he’s never seen before.

It’s an old kind of place, hiding behind dim lights and bouncy modern music. There’s a fair share of tables and a comically small dancefloor at the other end.

“So, you stalking me now?” you ask as he pulls up a seat next to you.

“Ha, it’s not like that I promise.” He replies as he nervously rubs the back of his neck.

“You just happened to be walking near the community centre, where I play, a location that’s a solid 30 minutes from where our date was supposed to be?” you say with a disbelieving smirk on your face as you look up at him.

“Must be fate.” He smirks back, putting on his best smooth voice as he tips back his drink. Dino can see you laugh, despite the eye roll, and feels accomplished. He doesn’t get another chance to talk to you for a while, people at the table sharing stories and constant celebration drinks coming to the table make proper conversation a little difficult.

There’s a heavy flow of shots and drinks coming your way, Dino knows you’re not a big drinker and valiantly takes the extra drinks you slide his way when no-ones looking. It works for a while, before the alcohol starts catching up with the rest of him.

“Captain! Aren’t you going to introduce us?” A team member shouts, grabbing everyone’s attention. You freeze for a moment then reluctantly gesture to him.

“Team, this is Dino. Dino, this is my team.” You say, seemingly begrudged to introduce him.

“Hi Dino!” They shout in unison, tipsy hands waving him to join at the table.

“Hi team.” He grins back, giddily returning the wave.

“How do you know Name?” one asks him. He looks to you and you’re shaking your head, warning him not to say anything.

“Actually, we were supposed to be going on a date tonight.” He replies. A loud chorus of _Ohhhhhs_ come from the table and he can see you smacking your forehead with your hand. He tries not to take offence that you want to cover up the fact you were supposed to be on a date with him.

“You ditched a date with _this_ guy, for a turf war basketball game?” a team mates pipes up.

“Turf war basketball game?” he asks, looking to you for clarification. Glad there seems to be a general consensus that he was attractive enough to ditch a basketball game for.

You rub the bridge of your nose. “It’s complicated.”

Eventually you manage to explain, after a few more celebratory slammer shots. The rest of your team busy with their own parades of showmanship.

You tell him a rival basketball team for the next city over lost their court and are currently trying to take over yours. The more Dino listens, the more it sounds a lot like when a new family tries to impose themselves on his territory.

“They shoved in during training and tried to hassle us off. Idiots decided to settle it with a match.” You sigh and run your finger over the rim of the shot glass. “It sounds stupid, but as Captain I couldn’t just leave them. It would look bad and put them at a disadvantage.”

Dino nods, fully understanding your commitment. When his territory or family were under threat, he’d drop everything to stand his ground. It’s an attitude he respected in others, and found incredibly endearing in you.

“S’not stupid.” He slurs in his best reassuring manner, wondering why he tongue feels so loose in his mouth. You’re looking at him like he’s an idiot, and for a moment Dino panics that he’s said the wrong thing. But then you’re snickering, and telling him that maybe he’s not as much of heavy weight as he thinks he is. You grab the remining two shots, and for someone who doesn’t drink you seem to throw them back like water. Dino’s impressed.

The call for last orders comes and goes, as everyone exits there’s a round of high fives and cheers before the crowd slowly dissipates. Dino notices you’re looking around.

“My keys?” you ask out loud.

“We got them!” a voice shouts. Both of you look up to see another team member wheeling off with what Dino can only assume are your keys dangling in her hand. “Please look after our Captain tonight Dino!” they call back, before slipping round a corner.

Dino can hear the audible groan as you hide behind your hands. “I warned you not to mention the dating thing.” You grumble.

He smiles and crouches down, “They seem like an interesting bunch.”

You ignore him and pull out your phone. “It’s okay, I have a friend nearby who’s probably still up.”

Dino interjects immediately, not wanting to lose the chance to spend more time with you. “I wouldn’t mind. It’d be nice to talk to the _Captain_ of the basketball team.” He draws out the word like he’s an adoring fan, nudging you gently. “You kept that one under wraps.”

He’s pleased when a tipsy laugh leaves your lips. “Alright, alright. But you’re taking the sofa.”

It’s a fun ride back to Dino’s place. Drink making you a lot more giggly than normal. He loves it and takes every excuse to make jokes about anything his equally as tipsy brain can think of. It’s only when you get to his place that the giggling stops.

“You _live_ here?” you say, mouth hanging open as the taxi pulls up to the sleek apartment block. Dino nods, maybe it’s a little fancier than he realises.

Your jaw stays open the entire way in, eyes marvelling at the gold-plated elevator as you roll in. Dino swiftly inserts his key for the penthouse and leans back against the banister to watch your face in amusement. He’s never known you to be so speechless.


	5. His Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you try to hold it together for 10 minutes

You were drunk, you had to be drunk. Because otherwise the incredibly clumsy idiot blond you’d been seeing actually lived in a building so fancy, it had _two_ doormen.

The marble ceiling of the gold ornate elevator looms above you making you feel incredibly out of place. Gradually, you become painfully aware of your old team basketball top and worn gym shorts clinging to your skin. The battered body of you basketball wheelchair sticking out like a sore thumb in the sleek elegance of the elevator carriage.

You swallow thickly and look over at Dino, who seems to fit in a lot more. Perfectly tousled hair, well fitted shirt, fuck it was probably designer, hair was probably designer too. It didn’t click before, but it makes sense he’d live somewhere like this.

Neither of you say anything as the elevator dings and you’re greeted with a large pale door. Dino unlocks a keypad and lets the flat black panel scan his finger before closing it again. The door _clicks_ open and a tipsy Dino gestures you inside.

The apartment is beautifully glossy, like something out of a high-end interior design catalogue for people who treat money like used tissues. It’s overwhelming, who had _this_ kind of money and why on earth would such a person be interested in you?! You feel like leaving, you really, really feel like leaving.

“Can I take your coat?” he asks, clumsily sliding off his own. That gets you to laugh, no matter how wealthy Dino might be, he’s still an idiot.

“Not unless you plan on undressing me right away?” you retort, glad for the break in tense silence. He smiles and leans over from behind to let his lips rest just next to your ear. “Is that an offer?” he whispers.

It would’ve been a smooth move, if it wasn’t for Dino forgetting about your wheelchair breaks. The drunk blond leaning a little too heavily against your seat, sending you sliding out from under him and directly into the back of the sofa.

Luckily the barrier around your footrest prevents any real damage being done, but that doesn’t stop the constant stream of apologises as he picks you up and dusts you off, checking over your chair. _Was that bump always there? Are you sure? I can buy you a new one. Sorry. I’ve had a little more to drink than I realised, I’m so sorry._ It’s only when you gently grasp his chin to drag it down and kiss his cheek that he shuts up.

You pull away after a second, pleased with the effect of your actions. Dino, however, has other plans as he moves your hand from his chin and slides his arm around your neck, bringing you in for a proper kiss. It’s not your first kiss with him, but that doesn’t stop your head from spinning at the soft touch of his lips against yours.

Eventually you both come up for air.

“Sofa?” you suggest, keen to move to a more comfortable position that didn’t leave Dino crouching in the middle of the floor. He nods, and without warning scoops you up out of you chair. Reflexively you cling to his neck and he smirks.

The sofa is ridiculously comfy, the kind you could settle down for a quick episode of something on Netflix and find yourself napping mid-way through the intro. As soon you’re down and settled, the kissing continues, Dino’s strong arms wrapped around your waist.

It’s fun, and for some reason neither of you can stop giggling as hands intertwine with the others, kisses stuttering from necks, to lips, to cheeks.

“Okay, okay. What did you do? Sue every building you’ve ever fallen over in?” you laugh gesturing to the apartment.

Dino pauses for a moment, lips still parted as he looks around the room. “Something like that.” He chuckles before he goes for your lips again, eager enough to push you onto your back. He’s warm over you and it’s tantalizing to feel his lips against your neck with your bodies so close, you can’t resist a small hum of satisfaction.

“Does the Captain like that?” he asks coyly. That gets you giggling again, but not before a groan at the nickname. Something tells you that -despite not being part of your team- Dino was quickly growing fond of using it.

“You didn’t tell me you had your own team.” Dino chuckles against your neck, and something about his voice tells you he’s genuinely curious as rests his forehead on yours, looking straight at you with those gorgeous coffee coloured eyes.

So, you tell him. Your old Captain left and you were kind of manhandled into the position since she’d kind of been your mentor. But that just gives Dino more questions. _When did you start basketball? What position did you play? How big was your team? Did you like being Captain? Did you play anything else? If you could play any other sport what would it be? Did you have any other hobbies?_ The list is endless as you try to answer all of them, Dino peppering kisses over random spots he can reach from his position over you after each answer, only to stop when another one pops into this head. It’s soothing, there’s something wonderful about the look of fascination on his face.

“Sorry I’m keeping you up, aren’t I?” he asks apologetically with a slight laugh, as you cover a loud yawn. Training and the turf war basketball match had really taken it out of you.

“It’s okay, but bed sounds like a good idea.” Dino nods and slowly stretches up and over to grab your wheelchair, paying no mind to how said stretch raises the hem of his shirt and exposes the chiselled v of his hips. You avert your eyes, knowing how keen alcohol can make two people.

It’s a little too late; once Dino’s wheeled you into the bedroom, and left you with a shirt of his – that’d you’d initially refused but had been tactically left out-, do you realise the problem. The bed is high, really high. Slicing down your breaks you sized up your best approach.

Arms on the bed and pulling yourself up doesn’t work, the large wooden step around the bed long enough to make proper leverage impossible at that angle. Rather than ask for help, you decide to take the undignified route and slide out your wheelchair onto the floor. It could be the alcohol talking, but today had been a relatively good day leg – minimal pain, some movement- and that could _just_ be enough to get you up without disturbing Dino, who had already settled on the couch.

It works, it’s painful but you get a good holding with your elbows and upper chest on the bed. Just as you feel you might have proper grip, the duvet untucks and sends you flying back to the floor

The crash is loud enough to alert Dino, who’s through in an instance. “Name! Are you okay?” he asks, eyes wide as he catches sight of you on the floor. He picks you up before you can say anything, strong arms drawing you to him. It’s almost unfair how naturally you settle against his chest as he holds you.

“The beds a little high.” You say, trying to avoid eye contact. As if that somehow made the humiliation of being picked up after falling more bearable. His chest is warm and as he lays you down on the bed and moves away, your hand involuntarily grabs his shirt.

He glances back, eyes searching yours.

“Maybe . . .” you want to tell him maybe he doesn’t have to sleep on the couch, that you’d like to sleep next to him, but it all sounds so stupid in your head.

“It’s cold.” Is all you manage as you drag him into the bed. Dino doesn’t question, simply sliding your back to his chest, head resting on your shoulder. “I can help with that.” He whispers.


	6. Phones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feels

Soft grey sheets peak into Dino’s vision as he stretches, brain foggily clearly up bits and pieces of the night before. One memory standing bold against the others. You, you in his arms, in his apartment, in his _bed_.

The night slowly replays in his head. The community centre, how amazingly you’d played. The bar, the drinks. The taxi ride home, the way you melted into him as you hugged your body next to his. The little questions he’d asked as he nestled his face into your neck. The quiet answers you’d given as you stroked his hair. He almost couldn’t believe how perfect it all felt.

Dino smiles to himself as he reaches over to touch you. His arm falls onto empty space and he sighs, the one time a big bed is a disadvantage. Feeling a little fragile from the shots still working their way over his gritty head, he shimmies further into the mattress in search of your soft skin.

Again, his hand falls onto empty space. A few more searching pats reveal nothing and Dino pulls himself up to check what’s happened. His bed is empty, nothing but perfectly arranged pillows and a folded duvet edge. Dino holds his breath, ears listening for any kind of movement in his flat. Slowly, it dawns on him what’s happened. You’ve left, you left without so much as a goodbye. No note, no warning, just . . .gone.

Dino rests his heads in his hands, a deep breath heavy in his chest. He shouldn’t be so offended. He did this all the time, and as a mafia man it wasn’t uncommon for him to be on the receiving end either. But this _hurt_. You hadn’t even slept with him, just stayed up all night talking. Whispered confessions and dreams all wrapped in one soft tipsy atmosphere as giggles and hands mixed in intimacy.

Maybe you went out? He reasons with himself, hauling his body off the bed and into the bathroom. Dino catches sight of himself in the mirror and stares, was his hair that messy when he’d run into you? Were the bags under his eyes this bad in the morning? He pushes thoughts to the back of his muggy mind and prays the warm of the shower will set him right. He has important work this morning, he can’t afford to be distracted. You’d left, that was that.

Only that wasn’t that, because despite his better interest, Dino texts you. Or rather he types, deletes, types, deletes, puts the phone in his pocket, brushes his finger over it repeatedly, takes it out and types again.

“Everything alright boss?” a subordinate asks as they walk to Dinos office. He reassures them he’s fine, bites the bullet and texts.

“Hey, missed you this morning.”

He doesn’t look after he sends. All but slamming the phone down on the desk in a mental reminder not to worry about it.

Five minutes pass, or maybe it’s an hour, Dino doesn’t know. All he knows is his phone hasn’t buzzed. Is the ringer on? He checks and it is, a low buzz confirming his worry. He turns the phone over and waits again.

Maybe it’s not loud enough for him to hear? He flicks the screen and turns the volume up to max, otherwise he might miss the sound of it in his quiet one person office.

A few more minutes of pen tapping and knee bouncing go by. Does he have signal in here? He checks the bars at the top of his phone, full. Dino sighs, filliping the papers in his hand back and then over again, barely reading the numbers. To save himself he places the phone at the very far end of his desk and tries to focus on his job.

Maybe his text hadn’t sent? He checks and it has.

Another hour goes by, a meeting in which Dino constantly fiddles with his phone. Spinning it between his thumb and forefinger. Pausing every now and then to light up the screen. Maybe the network was down. He texts Romario

 _“Romario, text me when you get this_.”

His phone buzzes instantly, loudly, interrupting the poor guardian who’d been presenting the latest details of his alliance. Dino apologises in the most boss like manner he can manage, not wanting to offend his men he excuses himself pretending it’s an unavoidable phone call.

 

He’s never been this bad before. Infatuation, Romario calls it as Dino explains why he suddenly text his right hand man demanding his attention.

To get his mind off it, Romario sets him up with a date and an excuse to consume excessive amounts of alcohol. A networking event, the kind filled with boring old men looking for a generous tax break by donating meager amounts to struggling local businesses.

Dino hadn’t meant to drink so much, but champagne was floating round and fresh glasses were dropped into his hands before he could muster the façade to refuse. It was a lot easier to drink than to think about you, and you’re face, and the pain of remembering you’d chosen to leave.

“Right?” his date asks, pointing to down the hall to another room. It’s set up with vendors and shoddy stalls. The kind that looked homemade and boasted unflattering colours. Dino doesn’t remember the previous conversation, but nods.

He’s dragged into the new room, his date making jokes about the stalls. How terrible they looked, how sad that people with such low level business skills attempt to make a profit. Dino isn’t really listening, he’s remembering something you said about the community centre where you play being in trouble, you were doing your own fundraiser? He racks his booze buzzed brain, what was it you had said?

His date excuses herself to chat to a friend and Dino continues up the aisles of vendors by himself, playing over what moments of last night he could recall.

A familiar voice slides past his ear in the rumble of the hall and his heart stops. Dino see’s you, through the crowd of people. Before he can pretend he hasn’t, you spot him.

“Dino?” there’s a small surprised smile on your face as he approaches. “What’re you doing here?”

All words leave Dino as he looks at you. You’d left, without a word, why were you so happy to see him?

You wave a hand in front of his face. “Dino? Earth to clumsy idiot?”

He pulls himself together. “I . . . this morning?” he stutters.

You look at him curiously. “You had meetings this morning, right? You mentioned it last night and I figured you probably didn’t want to be woken up at 6am when I had to be up.”

Dino’s mouth is opening but nothing is coming out. “I actually meant to text you but I’ve been setting up all day and there’s like _zero_ signal in this place. Do you wan—”

Whatever you were going to say is interrupted by a sudden kiss on his cheek. His date is back.

“Oh, this stall looks _interesting_.” She sneers, and Dino cringes. Not her fault, they’d been mocking stalls all night as a flirtatious banter. You’re looking at him, eyes hurt and confused as you watch his date take his hand and drag him off for another drink.

He stands at the bar, brain in a cycle of _oh god you’re here!_ and _oh god could that have gone any worse?!_ His date is saying something but all he can see is you sitting behind your stall looking so hurt and destroyed. He’s the worst, he’s literally the worst.

Leaving his date, he walks back over. When you see him, your face hardens to a sharp glare.

“H-hi” he manages, alcohol still swimming through his head. He puts a hand on the stall to steady himself

You take a deep breath and open your mouth to say something, but his date gets there first.

“Oi Dino, is this how you treat all girls on your first date?” she huffs playfully, slinking her arms around his neck. It catches him off guard and the sudden contact makes his body jerk, arm smashing against the support of the stall. Dino lets out a pained yell as he instinctively cradles his arm.

“Did you break something?” His date asks, immediately panicking. “Does anyone know first aid?!”

You sigh and wheel out from around your stall. “I do.” You take his arm roughly, and Dino remembers just how soft your skin is against his. It doesn’t hurt when you press down, but he’s quick enough to pretend it is, because if he’s injured, you have to take care of him. And in his tipsy mind that’s the best thing he can come up with now to get you to talk to him.

It works, and you take him into a small room at the back of the hall. His date happy to find another rich man to talk to as Dino declares himself done for the evening, what with him being so injured.

“Stupid clumsy fucker.” You mutter under your breath, pressing and feeling along his arm. Good, now Dino’s got your attention he can explain himself. But how to put it, his actions seem so stupid now.

“You weren’t there in the morning.” He says, words spilling out before he can filter them.

You stop, his arm in your hands, a concerned look on your face.

“I . . . I texted and you didn’t. . .” he continues, unable to form full sentences when you’re looking at him like that.

“So, you crash my fundraiser and bring a date to show off?” you state sourly, dropping his arm. Dino realises you’ve been pressing his arm this whole time and he’s forgotten to wince. “I . . “ Dino starts.

“You’re a fucking idiot you know that.” You whisper, letting out an irritated sigh. “I know.” He laughs lightly rubbing the back of his head. There’s a long drawn out pause as Dino tries to mentally asses your steady gaze.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You reply, rolling your eyes and attempting badly to hide the smirk on your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow update because of KHR rarepair but it's here now! Enjoy friends!


	7. Miscommunication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Constant surveillance can only be a good thing, right?

 

It was long overdue, Dino knew that. If he wasn’t a mafia boss, if he wasn’t so loyal to his men, he wouldn’t need to do things like this. He could date and fall in love as his heart desired. But he _was_ a mafia boss, and if something happened, he was responsible.

So, he agreed with Romario, cameras, background check and one man trailing you at all times. It was a system set up when his father first fell in love with a seemingly innocent civilian who turned out to be the daughter of a rival family on the rise for intel.

There were rules; no cameras in the bathroom or bedroom, only himself and Romario would be involved in background checks and the stream from your place. And a rotating set of close, trusted guards on your presence at all other times. It was temporary Dino told himself, and for the safety of his family. Having a guard on you at all times also meant he could keep an eye on you while he was away attending to family business in Italy.

As the totally-not-illegal app booted up on his phone your apartment came into view. Dino swiped his phone a few times to check the other cameras, one at the front door and the other in your main room. Well the room that doubled, tripled, as a lounge/kitchen and bedroom. A design Dino thought was criminal to call a home, but you seemed content with.

You had parked your wheelchair by the sofa, clearly settled in for the long run with a flask of coffee, bowl of snacks and books strewn on the end table. Your busted old laptop sitting between your legs as you stared at it intently.

Dino reckoned you looked most adorable like that, all focus and determination. He smiled, and put the phone back in his pocket. The data was saved as it recorded and he could review it after a day or two. The last he wanted to do was make a habit of watching you.

At least that had been his intention. It was the end of the day, he eases off the suit and stresses in favour of watching you as he lay back on the bed. You hadn’t moved much since he last checked in. Just a little more slumped in muddled nest of blankets you’d made on the couch. Dino reckons you’ve fallen asleep after a few minutes, watching your head dip forward.

The buzz of your phone jerks you forward as you scramble to catch your almost fallen laptop. Dino plugs in his ear phones to hear what you’re saying.

“Hey, no I wasn’t sleeping.” you say, lying through your teeth. “No, I know I should be in bed, I was just on my way.” As if trying to put some truth behind you words you shove the mess off your lap and pull your chair closer, locking the brakes in place to slide onto it.

“Yes, No, . . . I mean it’s just been a few dates,”

Dino interest peaks at the mention of dates, is some asking you about him? Had you _told_ other people about him? The thought makes his heart flip.

“Yes, Holy crap it was massive.”  Is the next line out of your mouth. And Dino has a good idea what you’re talking about, feeling a swell of pride at your comment.

“There was so much space, who lives like that? Who needs TWO living rooms, in an APARTMENT?!” you continue, wheeling yourself to bed.

Okay, maybe he was wrong. Maybe you are talking about his flat and not his dick. Either way you were still talking about him, that had to be a win. Dino closes the app after you’re done. Deciding it was a little self-indulgent to listen to any more, a protective mafia boss he may be, but he had his own moral guidelines for these sorts of things.

 

Dino didn’t know what to think as he watched you tipsily wheel into your apartment at 3am in the morning. You’d been out, and brought someone home.

He wasn’t _that_ handsome. Maybe a little bit too high maintained, too pretty. Dino glued his eyes to the screen under the table as he ignored the small talk being made at the alliance dinner. He didn’t have any earphones, or he could hear what you were saying as you manoeuvred yourself onto the couch with the new man.

The clatter of a plate in front of him broke his attention. A fancy dish with garnish and frou-frou everywhere. Dino was sure to thank the butler before turning his attention back to you. The man was sitting awfully close and you didn’t seem to mind, letting his arm rest around the back of the sofa, nearly touching your shoulders.

Dino felt his chest tighten as you turned your head to talk to him, smile wide on your face as you both laughed at whatever you said. The man said something back but Dino was interrupted by a gentle nudge from Romario.

“Boss?” he whispers, “What do you think?”

“Hmm?” Dino answers, half his brain still dealing with the burning image of you with another man.

“About the new alliance?” Romario repeats helpfully.

Dino sighs; this is going to be a long conversation.

He tries to keep his answers short. It’s important for families in times of hardship to come together, stronger as one, the Cavallone believes in the strength of the united, etc etc etc. but the questions keep coming, people looking to him for guidance, confirmation; it’s exhausting when all he wants to do is figure out what the hell was going on with you and this stranger.

True, he reasoned with himself, it had only been a few dates. You’d only slept together once – although what a wonderful once it had been. But Dino still felt hurt, he’d felt something, something strong and overwhelming when he was with you. Clearly you didn’t feel the same.

A pained sigh escapes his lips as he orders another drink from the bar, not really paying attention to anything else but the screen, which is now showing him the two of you post coitus in bed – god he is glad he missed the last hour - curled up under blankets and slowly falling asleep. He downs his drink in one, savouring the soft buzz in his head. Immediately he focusses back on his screen, waving his hand to indicate another drink to a very concerned bartender.

His attention is pulled away by a gentle hand on his arm.

“Dino!” a smooth voice proclaims as a familiar face saddles onto the barstool next to him.

“Bianchi,” he replies, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice. An old hook up didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his bad mood.

“What’s the handsome don of the Cavallone doing alone at a bar?” she teases, giving him a playful wink and stroking his arm.

It’s an old game they play; who can out tease the other, the worst pick-up lines, the filthiest words. In the past Dino would have revelled in it. A game of who could hold out longest, lines getting dirtier and dirtier, touches getting hotter and hotter until one of them couldn’t take it anymore and they found the nearest hotel, or cupboard.

But Dino didn’t feel like teasing tonight. He swallows down his double shot and grabs the girl’s hand before she can protest.

They manage to find a hotel, clothes tugged and ripped off without much in the way of ceremony. Dino lets himself be pushed back onto luxurious silk sheets as Bianchi begins kissing his neck.

It doesn’t feel like it used to. Dino finds himself wishing she’d make a joke, poke fun at his loud tattoos, tease him about his constant bedhead. It all feels so . . . serious. Too serious. Letting his mind wander, Dino stares at the wall, thinking about all the things you’d say if you were here. He feels the woman still above him.

“Dino?” she says hesitantly.

“Mm?” he replies, half-heartedly.

“Are you . . . enjoying this?” she asks, as she sits up on his chest. Her face curls into a questioning frown. He pauses, unsure how to proceed. He’d never _not_ been into sex and it’s not that he wasn’t enjoying what she was doing, it was just . . . it wasn’t you. Right now, he wanted to think about anything but you, and he couldn’t. He just wanted you there. To hear the sound of you chair as you glided around the room, to be in his arms, to nuzzle into him like you did, to see the way your face melted when he bent down and brushed his hand over your cheek.

“I just need to check something.” he mumbles, giving into the urge as he searches for his phone in his suit pocket.

Opening the app, he can see you. You’re still sleeping, the man’s body pressed against yours and Dino can see he’s still awake, hand gently stroking your hair. He swallows thickly, unable to tear his eyes away from the image of someone else touching you.

“Checking up on a subordinate?” Bianchi asks, as she peers over his shoulder. Dino nearly jolts out of his skin as he’s brought back to his reality.

“Something like that,” he manages before putting the phone down on the bedside table. His old hook up looks at him for a moment, trained eyes assessing his face.

“Romantic interest.” It’s not a question, and she smirks proudly at her deduction. Dino doesn’t have the energy to pretend she’s wrong as he lets his face drop, released from interrogation.

“But they’re with someone else? Oh, the _scandal_ Dino.” she teases, attempting to lift the dulling atmosphere. Dino feels her arms slide around his chest but it does nothing for him. After a few moments she questions him. “How long?”

“A few dates,” he replies honestly.

“And you’re _this_ hung up on them sleeping with someone else. Dinnnnoo,” she chides, “You got it bad hun.”

Dino tries not to think about it, mad that he can’t stop himself from talking about you, from watching you, from thinking about you. He needs to not think about it, he needs to distract himself before he jets all the way back to Japan to smash in the face of the man who thinks he can so easily touch you.

Without another word, he kisses Bianchi, just wanting an escape, wanting not to think about your skin on his, or your smile when he’s unnaturally clumsy. It works for a while, the focus of hot bodies sliding together. The tension in his body twisting and rising as he lets himself anchor in the building pleasure.

It doesn’t last long. As soon as he’s done and Bianchi is in the shower, he’s back on his phone, watching you. He doesn’t know why he keeps looking when it only hurts him. Maybe he’s hoping he’s got it wrong, maybe he’s hoping you’ll wake up and kick the mysterious stranger out. He doesn’t know, he just wants it to be a bad dream. He wants to turn on the screen and you’ll be by yourself, curled up on the bed with your laptop like you always are.

“Again Dino?” he hears Bianchi reprimand from behind him as she exits the bathroom. “This is terrible, are you in love with someone who’s already taken? Is it poly? Love can be such an intense thing, have you told them how you feel?” She sits next to him, taking the fact her designated hook up is being beyond rude surprisingly well.

“I . . .we haven’t said anything about being exclusive but . . .” Dinos trails off.

“Mmm okay, do they even know you’re in Italy?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“And have you spoken to them since you left?” she questions gently, like she’s talking to an idiot.

“Yes.”

As if proving his point, Dino opens up his chat with you and grimaces. The last text was a week ago. It’s from you, asking when he’s back. Dino groans audibly. He’d been so caught up _watching_ you, he’d forgotten to reply.

Bianchi laughs and smacks his shoulder. “There! Men in love can be so dense at times.” She sighs as she pulls her clothes off the floor and begins dressing.

“You’re leaving?” Dino questions as he watches her head for the door.

Bianchi just laughs again. “You got it bad Cavallone, try not to be so forgetful next time.”

Dino’s not so dense that he can’t take good advice when he hears it. Without hesitation he dials your number. It’s probably 5am your time but he needs to talk to you.

“Hello?” a male voice answers and Dino is suddenly hit with the sharp reminder he’s still there, in your bed.

“I’m looking for Name?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Ah, two seconds.” The man yawns and there’s the faint sound of ruffling sheets in the background.

Dino can hear you sleepily whisper to the man. “Who’s is it?”

“Your boyfriend,” The man replies in a manner Dino almost thinks is almost teasing.

“HE’S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!” you protest as clambering sounds and the thud of a phone being snatched away relay through the speaker.

“Dino?” you mumble, “It’s like 6 am, what’re you doing?”

“Ah, sorry,” he chuckles realising just how ridiculous it is to be phoning at this hour, but he can’t help it. He needs to talk to you, let you know he hadn’t abandoned you. “I realised I hadn’t spoken to you in like a week.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d be pretty busy with your . . . _business stuff_ ,” you tease, now slightly more awake and back to your usual quick-witted self.

“Haha, yeah it’s crazy, you know how _business stuff_ gets. But hey, I’m back in a few days,” he says, trying to ease in the conversation.

“Mmm,” you reply after he doesn’t follow up his with more information.

“And I thought maybe we could see each other again?” he asks.

“Is he asking you on another date?” Dino hears the man ask excitedly in the background. You shush him violently and Dino takes this as his cue to ask about the man in your bed who’s seemingly incredibly accepting of men calling your phone at ridiculous hours.

“Is someone with you?” he asks, almost fearing the answer. You hesitate, and Dino prepares himself for the biting consequence of his ignorance.

“Yeah, this annoying bastard, who _can’t seem to keep his nose out my damn business_ ,” you say pointedly in a hushed tone “ Is Haru. Basketball teams went out drinking and he missed his last train. I offered him my place but woke up to him stroking my hair.”

“You had something in your hair! And if I remember correctly you didn’t have a problem with me playing with your hair when you were younger. You used to love it! Haru, Haru can you make my hair like this cartoon character? Haru, Haru can you read me a bedtime story? Har—”

Dino hears the loud thud of your fist against the poor man’s shoulder. There’s harsh whispers in the background. “Shut the hell up! Don’t just go telling strangers personal details about my childhood.”

“He won’t be a stranger if you hurry up and make it official,” A sneakily playful voice retorts. You groan, and Dino can hear you roll over in bed.

“Childhood friend?” Dino asks, letting out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

“Friend is a generous way to put it.” You reply as you stifle a yawn then change the subject. “So, you’re back soon?”

“Weekend, wanna grab a coffee?”

“Sounds great. The little café?” you reply.

“The little café,” Dino confirms before letting you close the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who saved a chapter and forgot to post it for like 2 straight weeks?


	8. In The After Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where does the time go?

You had an interesting way of going about things, Dino thinks to himself as he rubs marks left on his wrists by the restraints. He’s tired and spent as he watches you undo the cuffs around his ankles. “Doing alright?” You ask him as you turn back to check on him, eyes tracing over his face for any indication of discomfort.

Dino laughs and pulls you in close to his chest, letting the warmth of your body radiate against his skin. You grumble and complain he’s too sweaty to cuddle, but you don’t make any attempts to shove him off, which Dino counts as a win. “Are you going to use the restraints every time?” He teases, letting one hand come up to curl protectively across your back.

A laugh pushes its way past your lips. “Every time until you prove to me you’re co-ordinated enough to do it without injuring both of us.” You retort, giving up any pretences of defence and cuddling into him.

Dino’s free hand finds its way to your hair, he lets his fingers play against the dishevelled strands, slowly moving down to trace the shell of your ear. He stops to play with the lobe, lovingly stroking it with his thumb. A satisfied hum resonates low in his throat as he closes his eyes, enjoying the post sex intimacy.

“Are you doing anything after this?” He asks.

“After one in the morning?” You ask dryly.

Dino opens his eyes sharply and jerks his head to look at the clock. He had no idea when it had got so late. He groans, remembering he’s supposed to be up for a conference call in an hour. He knows he should get dressed and run over the documents Romario sent beforehand but that all seems so unimportant when you’re in his arms like this. The look on your face a satisfied smile. “You forgot something important, didn’t you?” You scold him, some days Dino swore you could read his mind.

Dino nods, already feeling guilty about forgetting about his duties.

You tell him it’s okay, pushing your upper body up to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek before sitting up and holding your arms out to be picked up off the bed. You look incredibly cute like that. Once Dino had learnt how to _properly_ pick you up and put you in your chair, he hadn’t wanted to stop. Every time you let him do it he feels like a knight in shining armour carrying his love to safety. You knew this, and continually tease him for such childish idealisations, but you still held out your arms every now and then, just for him.

The trouble is, Dino doesn’t want you to go. Ever since he came back from Italy he’s spent every single possible moment with you. Now that he’s back, he doesn’t want to miss a single second. However, this was a mafia call, he can’t risk you getting involved.

That being said, he really doesn’t want you to leave. Then it strikes him. You don’t have to. You don’t speak Italian, even if you somehow came into his office you’d have no idea what was going on. He could be speaking about ice cream for all you knew.

A smile spreads wide over Dino’s face as he gently lowers your arms with his hand. “Stay, please.” He says, letting his lips meet yours as he drags you back to lie on the bed. You sigh and mention something about not wanting to interfere with work. A greedy feeling takes over Dino as he buries his head into the crook of your shoulder. “It’s a conference call, and I’d much rather you were here when I got back.” He tilts his head up to face you, putting on the biggest puppy eyes he can manage. “What if it goes really bad and I need someone to cheer me up after?” He says. You snort and playfully shove his face away, calling him shameless. Dino chuckles as he rolls off the silk sheeted duvet and manages not to trip over the annoyingly modern lip of the bed as he fetches out an unruined suit from his wardrobe.

In the cool light of the early summer morning, Dino can feel your eyes on him as he slides his hands over several perfectly tailored suits. He chooses a black one, classic cut. Many woman and men have told him he looks good in it, he wants you to tell him he looks good in it. He dresses himself slowly, hoping you’re watching the little show he’s putting on.

Only when he turns around to check, you’re snickering. “Managing?” You ask, from behind the hand covering your mouth. Dino looks down, his shirt is inside out and as he moves to fix it his unsecured belt unclicks, his trousers falling to his knee.

You’re in hysterics, fist pounding the mattress as you discard any attempt to hide your amusement. Dino laughs at himself, running a hand through his hair. “A little help?” He asks, waddling over in his fallen trousers and sitting on the edge of the bed. Eventually, you get it together enough to take off his shirt without cackling. Dino shuffles back further onto the bed so you can support yourself with one hand while the other carefully shifts the fabric off him. He notes the way your hand lingers against his skin. For all you’re mocking you got awfully touchy when the opportunity arose. Your fingers brush over a patch of skin that shoots pain down his body, a scar he’s forgotten about.

“What happened?” You ask, hand retreating to the outline of the injury, pensively waiting.

Dino’s mind scrambles for an excuse, something believable. Stupidly letting an enemy come up behind him and barely escaping a fatal stabbing isn’t what he wants to tell you.

“Fell down the stairs.” He replies, forcing out a laugh.

A heartbeat follows his words, and there’s no response. Your fingers trace the line of the scar and Dino can feel the cold grip of panic creep along his chest.

“Odd bruising pattern for a stair case.” You remark, Dino recognises the suspicion in your voice. He’s about to say something when your hand leaves his back. “But then you probably don’t want to admit what ridiculously stupid thing you _really_ did to get such a mark.”

Dino breathes a sigh of relief as he feels the curve of your smile against the back of his neck, your skin pressing to his.

“Go on, You’ve got a call to make.” You remind him, sliding his shirt the right way round up his arms and hooking the collar around his neck in place of your soft lips. Dino smirks and pulls your face back to him, letting him go without a kiss definetly wasn’t an option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are so lovely for keeping up with this intermittently written fic, hope the fluff was worth the wait ~<3


	9. Care

The sound of your phone buzzing against your mattress might as well be a thousands tiny daggers driving into your head. It takes far too long to stop and it doesn’t help that when you do eventually manage to pry your eyes open, everything’s still blurry. Vaguely, you can make out the green accept button on your phone, and manage to co-ordinate your arm enough to haphazardly swipe it.

“How’re you feeing?” Harus voice blasts, gurgled and distorted from the phone. You try to respond but all that comes out is a broken croaked series of noises. You try again, something that sounds more like hello pushing its way past your dry throat. “I’m so glad you’re awake, you were worrying me last night.” Your friend continues. “After only two drinks you got seriously weird, it was like you were super drunk.” He continues. You grumble, racking your brain for anything but the empty space that comes up when you try to remember last night.

“What happened?” You ask, explaining through a raspy voice that you don’t remember anything. Haru doesn’t get a chance to answer, your mouth filing with saliva and the sudden urge to throw up dominating your sense. You can’t get into your chair quick enough, manoeuvring un-cooperative limbs into place, you barely make it to the bathroom in time. A low thumping sound echoes through your apartment but you pay it no attention as you focus instead on not hauling your guts up through your throat. Eventually, the noise refines itself in your ears.

“Name! It’s me, I was in the area and thought I’d drop by, your apartment door was left open again so I came up.” Dino calls from outside your door.

“Now’s not a great time!” You manage, before another round of sick hits the back of your throat.

“Name? Are you okay?!” The clumsy blond knocks on the door again, sounding concerned.

“I’m fi-“ You’re cut off by an annoyingly loud wretch that sounds more painful than it actually is.

“I’m coming in!” Dino calls, and for a moment you wonder if you were so bad last night you forgot to lock your door. Dino finds you in the bathroom, and you could die of embarrassment. Here you were, mid throw up, wearing some old tshirt, hair a mess and looking like a warmed up zombie and of course the most attractive person in your life had to be the one to see it. “Are you okay?” He asks, moving over and crouching down to rub your back attentively. You shove him off, not having the capacity to answer but wanting to get him away before another wave of nausea hits. He takes the hint disappearing for a few seconds, but then he’s back. A glass of water carefully placed into your free hand and another much stronger pair of hands brushing the hair out your face. “It’s okay.” He says, in a voice all too reassuring and kind. You mumble something back about him not needing to do this and the dumb idiot just smiles. “I want to help.” Is all he says, as a hand finds its way to yours, giving it a comforting squeeze.

He doesn’t say much, between glasses of water and the very awkward no-sick-but-still-wretching sound filing the bathroom. Eventually, eventually, you get it together enough to pull your head from the toilet bow and mumble a thanks.

From somewhere in the background noise of the flat you hear Haru calling again. Dinos kind enough to grab the phone and bring it to you. “How much did you guys have last night?” He jokes as you catch sight of yourself in the mirror and nearly jump out of your skin. On loud speaker, Haru informs him it was two. Dino laughs. “C’mon there’s no way you’d be this hungover after two drinks.”

You can only wave your hand dismissively as you unlock your wheelchair breaks and attempt to turn your wheelchair to exit. Only standard wheelchair bathrooms make space for one wheelchair turn, not one wheelchair turn plus one clumsy idiot. One slight knock against his knee and Dino practically lands in your lap. A casual hey on his lips as he gives you one of those big lopsided, heart warming smiles.

With great grace and dignity, you manage to manoeuvre yourself -and Dino- out of the bathroom and into your bedroom/livingroom/kitchen. “Did you seriously only have two drinks?” Dino asks, as he clambers unskilfully off you and looks at you with an air of concern. You nod, because honestly all you have is Haru’s word, but it’s not like him to lie. “Which bar were you at?” Dino asks, something a little more calculating in his voice as he usual carefree look hardens becoming cautiously serious. You tell him, the usual one, you never really want to go anywhere else with Haru after training. Dino pulls out his phone, not making eye contact while he texts. “And how’re you feeling now?” He asks, a moment after his phone buzzes with a reply. “Temperature, breathing, memory?” there’s an edge of affectionate concern back in his voice but it’s nearly completely masked by a strong authoritative tone riding over it.

You assure him you’re fine, you’ve forgotten how much you can handle. You move to tell him it’s been a while since you drank, but very quickly the world around you spins violently and lurches you. It’s instinct that make you grab the worn pad of you chair for support, feeling Dino’s warm hand on yours a faint sensation compared to the constant nausea and sudden tightness in your head. His voice is indistinguishable from other senses until you feel warm hazel eyes staring into yours. “I’m gonna take you somewhere safe okay?” Is the last thing you can make out before the action of one simple nod takes all of your energy.

When you wake up, there’s an IV in your arm and the clean piercing smell of lemon disinfectant lingering in the air. A voice makes its way through the crisp white curtain separating you from the rest of the world.

“I don’t care how it’s done, use whatever you need to. I want the bastard _in front_ of me. Do you understand?!” The voice, sounds like Dino. But not the Dino you know, not the happy laughing idiot who begs you to stay at his flat in case his meeting goes bad and he needs someone to cheer him up, not the cute adorable man who flops down besides you for movie marathons and asks questions about the seemingly most common things. This voice is harsh, demanding and a little scary as it grates over ever syllable with a harsh hell like fury. Another voice continues on the other end of the phone and you watch the shadow of polished shoes pace violently up and down the length of the curtain.

Parted lips call out to the shadow “Dino?” The pacing stops, the curtain is pulled back to reveal a tense looking Dino. Relief washes over his face as his eyes make contact with yours. In an instant he’s by your bedside, taking your hand in his strong calloused one. The other stroking your forehead.

“You’re up.” He says, a small loving smile on his face as finger caress your cheek. You nod, senses shifting but not quite working together as you look around.

“My chair?” You ask abruptly, sitting up as you gather your surroundings.

“Here, it’s here.” Dino assures you, stepping aside and pushing the reliable set of wheels into view. A sigh of relief pushes past your lips and you relax back into the bed. Dino slides himself onto the sheets, with much more agility than you reckon he should have for someone who usually trips over thin air.  “I’m so glad you’re okay.” He whispers as he pulls you in close, strong arm drawing you to his chest as his chin rests on your head.

You laugh at him, reminding him it’s just a hangover and chiding him for making such a big deal. But he doesn’t let you go, and you don’t have the energy to struggle against his hold anyway. For a moment you stare at the small blue flame tattoo on his neck, the one you'd made fun of, slowly you eyes trail down the the horse on his arm. Had you seen that symbol somewhere before? In the moments leading up to peaceful sleep, the sound of Dinos phone buzzes again. His body goes tense, you can feel him physically force himself to relax as he uncurls you from his hold. There’s a mumble of excuses as he leaves your bed. This time, you can’t see the shadow of his shoes behind the curtain, or hear anything beyond the steady beeping of the monitors around you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought this story was dead? PSYC it's just like, sleeping, a lot. But here's an update hope it confuses the fuck out of you and makes you wonder just what is this guy you've been dating up to? This isn't Dino? Cuddly Dino? Idiot Dino? New Boss who dis?


	10. Clean up

Dino can feel his blood boil as Romario catches him up with details while they walk. They’ve identified the man from the bar, the one seen slipping a small pill into your drink. Forensics is still trying to identify exactly what exactly it was but they’re on it. The man is tied and waiting for Dino in his office. 

Dino feels his hand wrap possessively around the hold of his whip, knuckles flexing white. This was his fault, he’d been careless and you’d suffered because of it. Spending time with you in public, showing up to where you worked, frequenting the small café. He’d made you an easy target.  

Romario stops him before he opens the door. “We don’t know of any affiliation for sure, but this could be the work of an upcoming family. Private hire is a possibility.” The right-hand man informs him, carefully handing over a well-polished gun. Dino inspects it, twisting to check the mechanism. His fingers ache to fire it in the face of who ever would hurt you. But that seemed too clean, to have their life over so quickly when they’d made you suffer. Who knows what would have happened to you if he hadn’t been in the area. He shudders to think about it as he counts the bullets in the chamber. Satisfied, he nods to Romario and walks through the open door, staring down the pathetic man kneeling in front of his chair. 

Dino holds his glare as he slinks into the ornate chair, crossing his legs and idly toying with the handle of the gun. “I can make this easy for you.” He muses, stroking the red arm rest with a careful restraint. “Who do you work for?” He asks, calm and control masking the biting fury behind his eyes. The man in front of him cowers, arms shuffling against the restraints that keep his hands pinned behind his back. A pathetic creature. The man looks old, maybe mid 30’s and undeniably those thirty years have not been kind to him. There’s a distinct lack of hardness about him, but then, many men lost their fire when faced with Dino Cavallone one on one. Annoyed with the pause, Dino kicks the mans shoulder with his foot, making him loose what little balance he has. “Who, do you work for?” He demands, making a horrific attempt to keep the boiling anger containted inside him. 

“M-marco!” The man manages, whining pitifully when he see’s Dino shift position in his chair.  

“Who the fuck is Marco?” Dino snipes, gripping the hold of his gun and leaning forward to press the barrel against the quivering mans cheek.  

“H-he owns the mechanic shop out of town, I-I do the accounts.” The man snivels, fear already pooling out his temples as his eyes fixate on the gun. Dino has no idea what he’s on about, his mind races for a Marco, but nothing comes up. His grip on the gun tightens as he jerks it against the cowardly man cheek bone. “What were you doing at the bar last night?” He barks, using every ounce of restraint he has to keep his fingers off the trigger, lest they  _slip._  

The mans eyes go wide, and his shaking lips babble nonsense Dino doesn’t have time for, doesn’t have the patience for.  A sharp smack of the snub to the mans forehead brings him out of it, wincing and curling into a snivelling ball of fear. 

“It-it’d been a while. My friend said it would just make things easier.” He stammers, making less and less sense. Dino kicks his stomach, unable to dull searing anger as he presses his shoe against shaking windpipes glaring down at the miserable excuse for a man. “They were in a wheelchair, I- I didn’t know how much to give them so I put two pills in just in case. I didn’t think it would make them so ill, please you have to believe me I just wanted to get laid, it’s been so long. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!”  

Dino face curls in disgust as he realises what the man is telling him. What repugnant deed he’s implying with his horrifically meek voice.  

A shot to the kneecaps isn’t enough, and a shot to the head is too kind. Dino aims for the shoulder, and shoots. Savouring the shriek of pain and hard jolt of the body underneath him. 

“You’re pathetic.” Dino tells him, letting no emotion other than pure repulsion punctuate his sentence. The man had no words, just more shrieking, crying and pleading as the foot on his neck sinks closer to the floor, cutting off circulation, precious oxygen. 

“Dino!” Romario warns as the man face turns from red to blue to deep purple. Dino takes his foot off the mans neck, shooting the other shoulder for good measure.  

“Get clean up.” He orders, wiping his gun on the hem of his shirt and passing it over to Romario.  

The first things Dino does, is shower. Stripping off his clothes and embracing the cleansing feel of warm water over his hands. Interrogation was never something he enjoyed doing, and he can feel his hands shake as residual anger pulses through his body. Such a close call, what would have happened if he hadn’t been there, if the man had succeeded in his abhorrent deed. The idea, the sheer thought of you abused, in pain,  _hurt,_ fills him with rage and anguish. He’d have to take better care of you, to keep you safe. He lets the warm water soak his hair, his hands and clean him of any residual red sin staining his appearance. He’d done it for you, what was the point in being a mafia boss if he couldn’t look after the ones he cared about. Strong hands curl into tight fists as Dino forces himself to take a slow steady breath. He was no use to you like this, a shaking mess of emotion. He doesn’t want you to see him like that. 

With one swift movement, he turns the water cold. His body seizing under the bitter chilled water. He stays like that, body bent, hands against the wall of the shower until the freezing temperature is all he can think about. Anger, fear, pride, all melding and giving way to the primal stress of a quickly lowering body temperature. A voice pulls him out his head, Romario. 

“Dino, they’re awake again.” Romario informs his through the door. Dino nods, shutting off the shower and preparing himself to face you. He catches sight of himself in the wall length mirror. Taking a deep breath, Dino puts on his best smile and tries to hide the dark strain that echo's in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got real dark real fast but you can blame Tumblrs Dino Cavalone tag for that. Boy has so much pressure as a mafia boss and then suddenly is S/O is in danger? You can bet he's pulling out every single stop he has to make sure they're safe and person who hurt them is brought to justice/punished. But he's also the kind of mafia boss who cares so much about the people around him that he wouldn't want to burden them with his worry. Also a massive MASSIVE thank you for all the kudos? I have no idea when we hit 40+but omg thank you so much i'm so glad you're all enjoying this <3

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing from a wheelchairs users perspective, so if you find anything incorrect/unrealistic/out of place please let me know. <3


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